Origin of the Body (23 page)

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Authors: H.R. Moore

BOOK: Origin of the Body
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As they were dispersing, Alexander asked a few of the other contestants if they’d seen what had happened to Anita.  Most feigned ignorance or shrugged their shoulders, but one Spirit Councillor told him he’d seen Anita limping away towards the road to Alexander’s residence.  Alexander returned home as quickly as he could, hoping he would find Anita there and silently praying she was alright.

His car pulled up at the front steps and he threw the door open before his driver had fully stopped, brushing past Mrs Hudson, who had somehow managed to get the front door open before Alexander reached it.  ‘Is she here?’ he demanded, throwing his cloak onto a nearby chair.

‘She’s upstairs, resting,’ replied Mrs Hudson, carefully, ‘she wouldn’t let us do anything or give her anything to help.  She said she wanted to be alone.’

Without a further word, Alexander raced towards the stairs, taking them two at a time as he hurtled towards the top.  He ran to his bedroom and flung open the door, no idea what he would find on the other side.  He entered the room to find a small, curled up figure on the bed, a blanket hiding her from view.

Alexander moved to her bedside and gently sat down, placing a hand on her shoulder.  ‘What happened?’ he asked, feeling her wince at his touch.

Anita rolled over, moving gingerly, waves of pain shooting through her with every minute movement.  ‘Gwyn and Marcus happened,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘and if we didn’t need them to help us send the relic back, they wouldn’t be looking so good themselves right now.’

‘What happened?’ Alexander repeated, relieved to see that Anita’s spirits were still high enough for her to be indignant.

Anita recounted the story, finishing with, ‘and to add insult to literal injury, I didn’t even win the Chase.  So now I’ll most certainly be accompanying you to the ball, and I’ve got a good mind to come to the Crowning as well, just to wind them up a bit.’

Alexander laughed.  ‘Possibly not the best idea, seeing as we want them to help us send the relic back.’

Anita rolled her eyes.  ‘Fine.  I won’t come to the Crowning, but I’m definitely coming to the ball.’

‘Okay,’ said Alexander, ‘but first I’m calling my doctor to have a look at your injuries.  I doubt you’ll be in any condition to do much dancing at the ball.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ snapped Anita.  ‘The ball’s a week away and I don’t think they’ve broken anything; I’ll just have to wear something that covers up the bruising.’

 

*****

 

Despite her vehement protests, Alexander managed to get Anita in front of a doctor.  He confirmed she had no broken bones or internal bleeding and concluded that other than some serious bruising, she was fine, but Alexander still insisted she rest at home for a couple of days to make sure she properly recovered.  Anita reluctantly agreed, mostly because Alexander promised to stay at home with her and Anita had nothing else she wanted to do anyway.  After two days of lazing around eating, reading, playing cards and idly chatting, Anita was itching to get out and do something, so was ecstatic when Alexander told her over a breakfast of muesli muffins that he had something he wanted to show her.

After breakfast, wrapped up against the driving rain, they bundled themselves into Alexander’s town car and were whisked into Kingdom, to an area on the outskirts of town that Anita had never previously visited.  They pulled up outside an inconspicuous looking townhouse and as the car came to a halt Cleo threw open the front door, rushing over to speed Anita inside.

‘You have got to see this,’ Cleo squealed, now literally pulling Anita through the entrance.

‘See what?!’ she asked, laughing and throwing an interrogative look back over her shoulder at an amused Alexander, who shrugged his shoulders as though he had not a clue what was going on.

‘Words cannot describe,’ said Cleo, breathlessly, ‘you have to see for yourself.’

Anita followed Cleo wordlessly inside, across a black and white marble floor, past an impressive flower display on an imposing circular table, and up three flights of winding staircase with black wrought iron railing until they came out into what looked like a high end clothes boutique at the top.  Every wall was adorned with rails of clothes, the windows were swathed with tulle to keep out direct sunlight, several opulent looking sofas had been strategically placed in the middle of the room, and there was a plush curtained off changing area with impressive full length mirrors.

‘What is this?’ asked Anita, entirely confused.

‘My mother’s wardrobe,’ said Alexander, quietly, who she hadn’t even realized had followed them up the stairs.

‘She had quite a collection,’ said Anita, ‘but why are we here?’

‘Well, I know you need a dress for the ball now you’ve decided to come, so I thought you might like to borrow one of these,’ he said, waving his hand around the room.  ‘I’m sure you’ll find something to hide the bruises, and if anything doesn’t fit, Fernandez will alter it before next week.’  As he said the name Fernandez, a short, flamboyantly dressed man with round glasses entered the room and flashed Anita a smile.

‘Of course,’ he said, confirming Alexander’s statement.

‘And I’m here to help you choose obviously,’ said Cleo, already leafing her way through the dresses.  ‘I’ve already put a couple of options in the changing room.  You should start with those.’

Fernandez raised an eyebrow, not impressed by this overexcited slip of a girl treading on his toes, so he not so subtly made his way into the changing room to inspect her choices.  He came out a minute later with a reluctant smile on his face, ‘you’re choices are excellent,’ he said genuinely, then to Anita, ‘you should go and try them on.’

Anita could almost reach out and touch the bond forming between her best friend and Fernandez, and threw Alexander a desperate look, conveying something akin to ‘please don’t leave me with these two’.  But Alexander sent her a ‘you know I can’t do that’ smile, shrugged to indicate it was already out of his hands, and wheeled out of the room and down the stairs before she had time to open her mouth.

Realising the situation was also entirely out of her hands, Anita compliantly made her way into the large changing area and pulled the curtains closed.  Cleo and Fernandez barely even noticed, now engrossed in a conversation about the merits of some black number compared with a midnight blue one.  She stripped off and tried on the first of the four dresses awaiting her, a black silk satin number that revealed bruises on her back and at her shoulder, so she quickly took it off.  She didn’t even try on dress number two as it was red and too similar in colour to the dress she had worn to the last ball.  She was just shrugging on the third, a flowing silver chiffon, when the curtain was thrown unceremoniously aside.  Anita whirled around in surprise, but Cleo and Fernandez didn’t seem to notice.

‘No, no, no,’ said Fernandez, pulling the dress off her before it had made it past her shoulders.  ‘Try this one,’ he said, passing her another black dress.  But she had barely put that one on before it was also abruptly removed and another one handed to her, a pattern that was repeated several more times before Cleo and Fernandez took a step back and made appreciative noises.

The source of their approval was a modestly cut but form fitting yellow silk that hugged her body to the knees then kicked out extravagantly with swathes of flowing fabric.  The dress had elegant drape sleeves which not only hid entirely the ugly marks Gwyn and Marcus had left on her arms, but also served to soften the ensemble, giving the laughable impression that its wearer was in some way docile.

‘Spectacular,’ said Fernandez, manhandling Anita into turning a circle so he and Cleo could see the outfit from all sides.  ‘This is the one, don’t you agree?’ Anita was about to answer when she realized the question hadn’t been addressed to her.

‘It’s perfect,’ replied an unusually quiet Cleo, ‘just perfect.’  They stood in silence for a moment appreciating their handiwork before Cleo returned to her normal self and a further flurry of activity ensued.  ‘Shoes,’ she said determinedly, spinning out of the dressing room and returning moments later with three pairs of stilettos.

‘Hair down but with gentle waves,’ said Fernandez, supporting Anita as she climbed out of the first and into the second pair of heels, these much lower and covered in gold sequins.  ‘Yes, these are the ones,’ said Fernandez, Cleo agreeing, brusquely tossing aside the third pair, their pretty flower adornments already forgotten.

‘And natural makeup,’ said Cleo, ‘something soft but glowing.’

‘Indeed,’ Fernandez replied, ‘you’ll come here on the night to get ready and I’ll have stylists waiting for you.’

‘Splendid,’ said Cleo.  ‘Now what else?’ she pondered aloud.

‘Nothing,’ said Anita sharply.  She was inwardly delighted with her outfit but she’d had enough of playing the mannequin and was ready to leave.  ‘This is everything I need, thank you.’

‘Spoil sport,’ said Cleo, pouting.

‘Your sport, not mine,’ Anita replied good-humouredly, kicking off the shoes and turning her back to Fernandez for unzipping.  ‘It’s lovely though, thank you,’ she said, softness in her voice as the dress fell from her shoulders.

‘You’re quite welcome,’ said Fernandez, Anita pulling on her clothes.  ‘The length will need to come down an inch; you’re taller than Celia was, even with lower heels on, but other than that, it’s flawless.  I’ll look forward to seeing you before the ball.’

‘Thank you Fernandez, I’ll look forward to it too.’  With that, Anita headed for the staircase, a reluctant Cleo trudging behind her, turning for one last longing look at the treasure trove before following Anita down the stairs.

Chapter 15

On the morning of the ball Helena called them to a meeting at Monty’s.  The other Descendants had all but disappeared from public life since Austin and Bas’ deaths, so the ball was an unmissable opportunity to get them on side, but given recent happenings, everybody acknowledged that would be no straightforward task.  ‘What about Peter?’ asked Cleo.  ‘Can’t we try to get him to convince Gwyn?’

‘She’s never respected her father,’ replied Helena, ‘he’s a source of constant embarrassment to her, not least because he was the one to break the female line.’

‘That wasn’t exactly his fault,’ muttered Cleo, under her breath.

‘Alexander could try?’ suggested Milly.  ‘One ruling Descendant to another?’

‘Seeing as Gwyn blames me for Bas’ death,’ said Anita, ‘and Alexander is my boyfriend, I think, if anything, that would push her further in the wrong direction.’

‘It’s best coming from me,’ said Rose.  ‘Bas was my son, so she should do me the courtesy of at least hearing me out.’

‘Okay,’ said Helena, ‘but what about Marcus?  Amber will be there watching his every move and we have reports saying she’s already trying to get him more involved in Austin’s work.’

‘I’ll try first,’ said Milly, ‘he’s my son after all.  I’ll talk to him before the ball though and if that doesn’t work someone else can have a go later.’

‘Who though?’ mused Helena.

‘Anita,’ said Alexander, to the surprise of everyone present.

‘What?’ choked Anita, not quite believing what she’d just heard.  ‘How can you think that would be a good idea?’

‘You killed Austin,’ he said simply, ‘and Marcus will want to know more about what happened.  You’re the only one who can give him that.’

‘He beat me up less than a week ago,’ Anita pointed out indignantly.

‘Yes, but he still has feelings for you, any reader can see that.’

Anita flushed, ‘that doesn’t mean he’s willing to even speak to me, let alone trust me enough to buy into the plan.’

‘Alexander does make a good point though,’ Helena added, ‘the heart makes people do crazy things; it’s got to be worth a go.’

‘Did it ever work for you?’ asked Anita, wishing as soon as the words had escaped her lips that she could claw them back.

A shadow passed behind Helena’s eyes, ‘no,’ she said quietly, ‘but I never stopped trying.’

A heavy pause filled the air, the whole room looking expectantly at Anita.  She took several deep breaths, reading Alexander’s disappointed energy as she considered her reply.  ‘Fine,’ she said, eventually, ‘I’ll do it, but don’t be surprised if it totally backfires, and if that happens I’m not sure what we do.’

 

*****

 

Milly knocked on the door of Cordelia’s suite and she answered immediately.  ‘Yes?’ asked a surprised Cordelia, she hadn’t expected a visitor, let alone the mother of a Descendant.  Cordelia had come to Kingdom to see Anita when she’d heard what had happened during the Chase and didn’t realize anyone else even knew she was there.

‘Ah,’ said Milly, taken aback by Cordelia’s frosty greeting, ‘is Anita here?  Alexander thought she might be.’

‘Yes.’

‘May I please speak with her?’  Milly’s patience was wearing thin; not used to being treated with so little respect.

‘Can I ask what it’s regarding?’

‘No,’ replied Milly, bristling with annoyance.

Cordelia appraised the woman standing before her before stepping back and inviting her in.  ‘Please take a seat,’ she said, motioning towards one of the pristine armchairs, just as Anita entered the room.

‘Milly, hi,’ said Anita, surprised to see her.

‘Hi,’ she replied, her eyes flicking to Cordelia, indicating what she had to say wasn’t for her ears.

‘Let’s go for a walk,’ said Anita, ushering her back towards the door.  ‘See you in a bit,’ she said sweetly to Cordelia, whose energy was furious for some unexplained reason.

They got out into the fresh air and Milly visibly relaxed.  ‘What was up with her?’ she asked.

‘Absolutely no idea,’ said Anita, truthfully.  ‘I’ve never seen her react like that to anyone; she’d normally have you sitting down eating cake and drinking tea before you knew what had happened.’

Milly laughed, ‘it must be something I did then!’

‘She’s been a bit off ever since she found out there were two dead bodies on her kitchen floor, so let’s just put it down to that.’  Milly didn’t reply.  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so flippant.’

‘No, it’s not that.  It’s just so hard to believe it really happened, that’s all.’

‘I know.’

They walked in silence to the park at the end of the road where they sat on a bench, watching a couple of naughty children hiding from their exasperated mother.  ‘How can I help?’ asked Anita, eventually interrupting Milly’s thoughts.

‘I spoke to Marcus,’ she said slowly.

‘And it didn’t go well?’ Anita ventured.

‘It didn’t go badly,’ she said, a little sensitively, ‘but he wasn’t ready to sign up to the cause when I left him.  Amber’s started to sink her claws in; he said he’s continuing Austin’s work, which I know from first-hand experience isn’t what you’d call savoury.  He’s confused; he thinks he has to honour Austin’s legacy, but knows deep down he doesn’t really like what Austin did.  Amber’s playing on his uncertainty.’

‘So what do you think we should do?’

‘You speak to him.  Make him see that Austin had come to kill you, and for Gods’ sake make him see there’s a different way.’

‘You know he probably won’t even talk to me.’

‘I think he will,’ she paused, turning to look at Anita, ‘and you won’t know until you try.’

‘I said I’ll try, I’m just not convinced it’ll work.’

‘One more thing,’ said Milly, hesitantly, ‘I wouldn’t go to the procession and dinner; Gwyn doesn’t want you there and she’ll use it as another opportunity to manipulate Marcus into thinking you’re throwing Austin’s death in his face.’

Anita stiffened, livid at the idea of not being able to do something because of Gwyn, but she knew she had to be pragmatic, so sulkily said, ‘fine.  If you think that’s more likely to work, I’ll stay out of the public bits.’

Milly smiled as she got up to leave, ‘good luck,’ she said, ‘he’s stubborn, so you’re going to need it.’

 

*****

 

Anita and Cleo got ready for the ball as planned, with the help, or maybe hindrance, Anita wasn’t sure, of Fernandez and his three assistants.  However, when Cleo departed, Anita stayed behind, retreating downstairs to a large drawing room where she picked up a magazine to help her kill the time it would take the others to eat dinner.

When it was finally time for her to leave, Fernandez miraculously appeared to touch up her makeup before escorting her down the remaining flight of stairs to the front door, Alexander’s driver waiting there for her.  ‘Have a wonderful evening,’ said Fernandez, kindly, ‘you look spectacular.’

‘Thank you Fernandez,’ she said, slipping into the back of the car, her guts flipping as the driver sped off in the direction of the valley where the Chase had begun.  She was blown away by what she saw when she got there, looking down from the hillside at a hub of twinkling lights and beautifully dressed people mingling to a backdrop of mellow jazz.  Miraculously, the Councillors had managed to put an enormous, open marquee over the middle of the valley, including over the river that ran through its centre, the dance floor entirely see-through so as to show the river off.  Around the outside were a number of seating areas, the trees above alive with fairy lights, providing a gentle glow over the soft seating below, well concealed heaters dotted around to keep away the cold.  Winter flowers blossomed everywhere, in the joins of branches, all across and around the marquee, and lining the makeshift paths that had been constructed for the evening.

By the time Anita had descended the side of the valley, passed the security guards who recognized her immediately, and reached the entrance, the first dance was in full swing.  Marcus and Gwyn whirled across the floor; it had been deemed only right for them to open the dancing together seeing as they’d come first and second in the Chase.  They danced demurely, all eyes fixed on their envious forms, until the tempo of the music changed, indicating the first communal dance was about to commence.  Anita watched as Marcus slipped away from the growing crowd, exiting at the side of the marquee.  Gwyn, not ready to stop dancing, simply replaced him by stealing some other girl’s partner, the girl relegated to the side lines, nothing she could do but watch with furious eyes.

Realising she wouldn’t get a better chance, everyone else distracted by the opening dances, Anita skirted around the outside of the tent in search of Marcus.  She found him sitting on a sofa underneath one of the decorated trees, his back to her, shoulders hunched despondently forward, looking as though he were trying to shut out the world.

She paused a few paces back, neither wanting to interrupt him, nor knowing what to say, but he’d heard her footsteps crunching on the frosted ground and turned to see who was there.  His face remained passive as he took her in but his energy leapt, casting aside any doubts she had about his feelings for her.

‘Hi,’ she said, breaking the still spell that had settled around them.

Marcus said nothing, getting to his feet with the clear intention of leaving.  Anita stepped into his path and placed a hand on his chest, a movement that stopped him dead.  ‘Please,’ she said quietly, ‘I just want to talk to you.’

He looked down and closed his eyes, his energy escalating as her fingers lingered, moments flitting by.  He finally raised his head, Anita shocked to find herself looking into the eyes of a lost, exhausted man, no trace of the arrogant stranger who’d pursued her only a few weeks before.  Without thinking, she dropped her hand and pulled him into an embrace.  He wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in her neck, forgetting for a blissful instant everything that had happened, but soon enough it flooded back and he pulled away, moving back to the sofa and sitting down.

‘What do you want Anita?’ he asked, vacantly.

‘I want to talk to you about what happened.  I want you to know what happened.’

‘Why?  You can’t change it now.’

‘But I can put a stop to the conflict inside your head.  You need to know.’

‘Dad tried to kill you and you defended yourself,’ he replied evenly, ‘and Bas must have got caught in the crossfire.’  Anita’s eyes went wide.  ‘Any conflict I have isn’t to do with what happened that night.’

‘So what is it to do with?’ she asked.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he replied, guardedly.

‘Not to me,’ she paused, ‘but I suppose perhaps you don’t know whether to follow in Austin’s footsteps, evicting helpless people from their farms and businesses, or to choose a new path of your own?’

‘And what would that entail?’

‘Only you can say.’

‘But like my mother, the real reason you’re here is because you think you know where I should start.’

‘I’m not here to convince you to help the Institution, although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think it’s the only option we have, and as a Descendant, stabilising the energy should be top of your list of priorities.’

‘Easy for you to say.’

‘Not really.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Do you know the reason Austin was trying to kill me?’

‘He got wind of Bas’ plan but thought you were really the one behind it, so decided to come after you.’

Anita was again taken aback, ‘what?  He knew about the plan?’

‘Yes.’

‘But why did he think it was my idea?  It had nothing to do with me.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ he stood up, turning away and dragging his hand through his hair.  ‘Seeing as that was news to you, why did you think he came after you?’

Anita paused, not so sure what she was about to do was a good idea, but as usual, ploughed ahead anyway.  ‘Because I’m the real Body Descendant, not Gwyn.’

Marcus laughed, almost cruelly, ‘that’s impossible.’

Anita raised an offended eyebrow.  ‘No, it’s not.  It’s a long story, but Peter isn’t the real Body Descendant either, my mother, Clarissa, was.  Christiana swapped her with Peter at birth because the Descendants wanted to put an end to the prophecy.’

‘Why?’

‘For personal gain.  If there’s no risk of anyone fulfilling the prophecy, the Descendants rule forever.’

‘So why not just come out and tell everyone?’

‘Because that would lead to further instability.  We need to stabilize the energy, not provide another reason for it to plummet, and anyway, people might not believe it and we don’t have the luxury of time.  We’ve got to do something now, before the army of rebels in the Wild Lands does.’

‘Now you’re stooping to the same scare tactics as Amber,’ he said, defensively.

‘She’s right, I saw them myself.  I just got back from the Wild Lands where they’re everywhere, and they’re hungry for action, even their leaders are struggling to control them.’

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